


Broken Toys

by hannah_baker



Series: Kind of a Thing [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, stilinski family feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannah_baker/pseuds/hannah_baker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was easier for everyone to look at Derek and see a troublemaker. It took Stiles to look at him and see a human being. Moments like this made John remember who Stiles had been as a child - how the broken toys were the ones that he wanted to play with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Toys

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read without first reading Kind of a Thing, because let's be honest, there's not a whole lot of plot going on in either. Just a bit of sweet sweet established relationship. 
> 
> Also, using Papa Stilinski's fanon first name, John.

Stiles shook on the way down the stairs, trying to keep his tears in so Derek wouldn’t see. His eyes always betrayed him for hours after he cried, staying red and puffy long after he’d calmed down. He shrugged his coat on as quietly as he could, and grabbed his keys from beside the door - but felt a hand grab his shoulder the second his hand touched the doorknob. 

Shit. He should have gone out the window, but he was pretty sure he would have fallen off the roof in his emotional state. That, and his dad was _supposed_ to be completely asleep. 

“Where do you think you’re going at two in the morning?” Sheriff Stilinski asked his son, his own voice soaked with exhaustion. He wasn’t too tired to miss the tremble in Stiles’ shoulders, though. Stiles’ voice was heavy and rough and full of anxiety. 

“Dad, I messed up, and I hung out with Scott tonight because Derek wasn’t answering his phone. I forgot-“ he started but his dad interrupted him. 

“You are not going to Derek’s at two in the morning. _It is two in the morning_. You are going to bed.” He gave Stiles a bit of a gentle shove toward the stairs. “You can go apologize to him tomorrow. Call him on the phone now. I don’t care. You. In your room. Now.” 

“Dad, seriously,” Stiles said, trying to get his dad to understand the gravity of the situation. 

“Stiles-“

“Dad, today was Laura’s birthday,” he said, and his dad froze. He looked at his son, his entire body tense, his eyes wide and on the verge of tears. “I just want to make sure my boyfriend doesn’t kill himself tonight,” and the first tear slipped down his cheek. 

“God,” John breathed, and reached for his keys and coat. It was easier for everyone to look at Derek and see a troublemaker. It took Stiles to look at him and see a human being. Moments like this made John remember who Stiles had been as a child - how the broken toys were the ones that he wanted to play with. “I’ll drive you,” he said, looking at the way Stiles’ hands were shaking. 

 

-

 

Derek’s apartment was ten minutes outside of town if John sped a bit - which he did. He was a trained professional after all, and it was Beacon Hills. Everyone was asleep. When they arrived, they hurried up the stairs to the third floor, and Stiles knocked only out of habit before opening the door. 

“Derek?” he called, checking the living room quickly before heading down the short hall to his bedroom, navigating the small apartment with a familiarity that John didn’t want to think too much about. Derek was curled on his bed. He would have looked calm if it wasn’t completely apparent that he’d just been crying. 

Stiles wasted no time and shucked his shoes and jacket off in seconds, getting into bed. He sat with his back against the wall, and pulled Derek to him, letting his head rest in his lap. 

And suddenly John felt more awkward than he ever had in his life. “Stiles,” he said quietly, and his son met his eyes, his look pleading. 

“Dad, _please_ ,” he started, but he didn’t get very far. John had known on the way over that Stiles wasn’t coming back with him when he left tonight.

“You can stay - just tonight. I’ll have my phone on if you need anything.” 

“Thanks, Dad,” Stiles said, and John thought about how fond he was of his son. What a good friend he was, a good student, a good athlete. He was proud of him. He wasn’t going to worry about this situation too much. Stiles could make good decisions on his own. He nodded and turned to leave. 

“Thank you, Sheriff,” he heard from behind him, Derek’s deep voice. He turned to look at Derek, his face younger than he’d seen it in years. He saw Derek’s family around when they were still alive - Beacon Hills wasn’t a large town - and for a second he looked sixteen again. John remembered again how alone Derek was, and how long things had been that way.

“Call me John,” he said with a nod, and headed back home. 

When Stiles heard the front door shut behind his dad, he sank lower in the bed, pulling Derek to his chest. Derek held him tight, but didn’t cry again. 

“Your dad is great,” he said with a heavy voice, and Stiles smiled a sad smile. A _I feel shitty cause my dad is alive still and yours isn’t_ smile. Not that it was a competition. Derek never made his pain out to be larger or worse than Stiles’. He honestly just thought the sheriff was a great guy. He was also obviously very grateful not only that he let Stiles stay, but also that he drove him here. He could feel Stiles still shaking and couldn’t imagine him behind the wheel of his Jeep like this. 

“He has his moments,” Stiles said, threading his hands through Derek’s hair. He ran his hands over Derek’s shoulders, his expanse of smooth skin interrupted only by a tank top. He tugged at it a bit and whispered, “take this off.” Derek shifted to his knees to pull the shirt over his head, and Stiles did the same, pushing his jeans off too while he was at it. He slid back down and settled Derek against him again, the feel of their skin pressing together one of Derek’s biggest comforts. Derek rested his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck and breathed deep. There was something about the way that Stiles smelled that made Derek feel like he was outside. 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, apologizing again for being forgetful and thick. 

“It’s okay,” Derek said, and though it sounded like he meant it, Stiles knew he was only saying it to make him feel better. 

“No, it’s not okay. You were alone all day. It shouldn’t have been that way. I should have been with you.”

“But then you wouldn’t have been able to be here now,” Derek said, his arms tightening around Stiles’ chest. Normally, it was the other way around. Stiles curling up on Derek’s chest, Derek’s arms around Stiles’ shoulders. It was the combination of wolf and alpha in him that made him not only possessive but dominant. Only pain this great made him feel small. 

Stiles didn’t push him to talk about Laura. They’d done that plenty of talking - and Derek only liked to talk about her when he was happy. Stiles heard the most about the Hales out of Derek’s smiling mouth. When he was sad it was exponentially more difficult. And Stiles understood. He held onto Derek and just listened to him breathe, knowing that being there was what he was supposed to be doing. Just being there. 

 

-

 

Derek thought this must be what the walk of shame would feel like. He had to take a deep breath before getting out of the Camaro, pushed only by the sight of Stiles already at the front door, waiting for him. He had that smile on his face that Derek loved - that glow was magnetic. 

Stiles pulled him over the threshold of his house and straight to the kitchen, where Sheriff Stilinski was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading the paper. Derek almost blushed when the sheriff looked up at him, thinking about how pathetic he must have looked the night before. He wasn’t used to showing his vulnerability to anyone except Stiles - and even that was a new challenge. 

“Home safe,” John said, his voice sounding appreciative. He smiled up at Derek who was still standing awkwardly in the archway to the kitchen. He usually felt fairly comfortable in the Stilinski house, but this morning was a little different. 

“All in one piece,” Stiles said, nudging Derek to sit in the chair across from his dad. “I’m going to go take a shower and change,” he said, and pressed a quick kiss to Derek’s cheek before leaving the kitchen. 

Derek sat across the table from Stiles’ dad - _John_ \- and tried to look cool, collected. Being around Stiles’ dad was getting easier. He didn’t smell the hesitance and the mild animosity coming off of him anymore. His scent wasn’t quite to trust yet, but it was much more welcoming than when he first found out about him and Stiles. 

“Did you guys eat breakfast?” John asked, and Derek shook his head.

“We left pretty much as soon as we woke up,” Derek said, trying to make it blatantly obvious that nothing questionable went on. It was 9:30 in the morning on a Saturday, which Stiles had long declared his _I’m sleeping in 'till noon do not bother me_ day. Derek took a five minute shower at his apartment, but Stiles insisted that he had to do that particular activity at home - just for show. 

“I’ll make something when Stiles gets back down,” John said, turning his attention toward his paper for a few minutes before looking back up at Derek. “I’m sorry again about your sister,” he said, honest sympathy flowing easily out of his voice. 

“Thanks,” Derek said, “and thanks for letting Stiles stay last night. It was much better to have someone there.”

“Stiles gets the same way on his mom’s birthday - well, we both do.” He let the pause linger between them for just one instant past the awkward mark. “Say,” he started, trying to figure out how to phrase his question without it being awkward. “Last night Stiles called you his boyfriend. Is it… what’s the word?” he scrunched his face, “official?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s been official since about the time you found out actually,” Derek said, trying to stay relaxed. He could force himself to be very charming, he knew, but he also knew that John would be able to sense he wasn’t being genuine. He stuck with mostly confident but slightly awkward. It was tough enough to talk about relationship stuff period, let alone with Stiles' dad. 

“You didn’t want to be until then?” John asked, slightly confused. 

“It was Stiles, actually,” Derek clarified. “Stiles was hesitant about officially dating - he was for months, but when you found out he realized that he was avoiding putting a name to it until you knew.” 

John looked a little taken aback, but pleased. He’d seen the way Stiles looked at Derek - like he was the sun and the moon. He couldn’t imagine him putting the breaks on their relationship. But he supposed he didn’t know very much about it. “Well it was good of you to be patient with him,” John said, and Derek could tell that there was a lot of meaning behind it. 

“Stiles is actually in charge of that kind of stuff - we go at his pace. Save for some limitations I’ve set.” Derek liked to be pretty upfront with Stiles’ dad - _I remember Stiles is underage_. John didn’t ask for clarification as to what those limitations were. Derek was thankful. 

“You’re taking good care of him though,” John said, half statement, half question. He wasn’t ever around Derek without Stiles attached to his side, and he just needed to do his fatherly duty to make sure Derek knew how to treat his son.

“As he takes care of me,” Derek responded. Correctly, judging by the look on John’s face. 

“And you love him.” There wasn’t any question left in his tone. 

“Yes,” Derek said, voice a bit quieter than before. “More than anything.” 

“What more than anything?” Stiles asked, choosing that moment to bound back into the kitchen. He was properly awake now, in clean clothes, smelling like his own soap and his own house. Derek mourned the loss of his own scent all over him, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before it was back in place. He was soothed a bit by the fact that Stiles was wearing one of his old lacrosse shirts from when he was in high school. He liked seeing his number and name bold across Stiles’ body. 42 - Hale. It wasn't as big on Stiles as Derek's shirts now were. He'd bulked up since high school.

“I love you more than anything,” Derek said, his face tilting up toward Stiles. He reached his arms out and wrapped them around Stiles’ waist, pulling him to sit on his lap. Stiles beamed and wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders. 

“And I love you too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Derek’s head.  He turned to his dad. “I was thinking we could make Derek the kind of pancakes that Mom used to make?”

“The kind with the cinnamon?” Derek asked - Stiles had told him quite a bit on the subject of these pancakes. 

“Mmmmmhmmm,” Stiles responded slowly, dragging his affirmative sound out long. Stiles liked when he could feel the tension in Derek’s body leave. There was a distinct difference between stressed, anxious Derek and calm, content Derek.

Derek watched as the Stilinski men moved through the kitchen, Stiles mixing pancake batter with about a pound of cinnamon, and his dad getting a pan ready to fry bacon. Eating, when he was a kid, had been such a collaborative experience. The kitchen was always a crazy mess. It was a sharp juxtaposition to what cooking was to him now - cooking alone, eating alone. Being alone in general. Making simple things because it’s not worth cooking something amazing unless you’re cooking for someone amazing. 

His nose was going crazy in the kitchen - the food smelled delicious, but there was a stronger smell. The warm, inexplicably woodsy smell of Stiles, the strong spicy smell of his father, and the mix of all three of them that smelled not like Hale specifically, but like family more generally. Yeah - he’d be sticking around for a while. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on the popular social blogging site tumblr, [here](http://221hannahbaker.tumblr.com) (my personal) or [here](http://hannahisawolf.tumblr.com) (my Teen Wolf blog). 
> 
> Thank you for reading :3 I love you.


End file.
